


The Entrance Could Use Some Work

by AndeliaMaddock



Series: Crowley Collections [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bubble Bath, Crowley was probably thinking about Moose, Gen, Ghosts, He really wants Moose to Get Bent, Humiliation, Masturbation, boner for old bones, rubber ducky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 04:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndeliaMaddock/pseuds/AndeliaMaddock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley finally has alone time.</p><p>Too bad Bobby picks that time to want his stupid little soul back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Entrance Could Use Some Work

**Author's Note:**

  * For [youdickbag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youdickbag/gifts).



Crowley slid his eyes shut and leaned back against the porcelain tub. He settled in and stretched out. His time, once more it was his. No interruptions, no major problems that needed his immediate help. Just Rest and Relaxation.

He sunk under the lavender bubbles and let the warmth of the scented water drive him to a place of utter relaxation. Without a need to breath, he didn't have a reason to come up just yet. So two lazy hands slowly slipped down his water-slick body and stroked along his chest, stomach, thighs, and finally they caressed the sweetest place of all.

Maybe he didn't have 'double digits' anymore, but he'd picked a well-enough hung literary agent with excellent taste, and he couldn't complain. He relaxed down onto the bottom of the tub and let each deft flip of his fingers send him a bit higher, make him tremble just a bit more. Sometimes, by himself, it was even better than if he was with one of the simpering idiot demons under him in the chain of things. Hell, most of the times it was better to get the job done himself, lately.

Especially when he had all the time he needed to go as slow as he wanted without anyone--

Water spilled out around him and he coughed and spluttered and flailed. Blinks brought the water away enough that he could see again. All of it. Devil's trap? Check. Bobby Singer staring down at him? Check. Rubby Ducky on his-- oh come on! Check!

Crowley didn't even make a move to pretend he cared for modesty. He turned onto his side and regarded the other coolly. "I suppose this is another attempt to force me to give back your soul?"

Bobby didn't even have the decency to respond. He bent over a desk and used one hand to support himself on it, while the other one pressed tight to his chest. "Damnit, Crowley!" He couldn't stop laughing long enough to even continue that for several humiliating seconds. "You're what, having a rubber duck party and a bubble bath. King of Hell sure gives you nice perks huh?"

"So I spend my time doing what I want. It doesn’t matter. Now, I thought I told you about it. No deal to be made, you don't have anything I want!" He examined his nails and ignored the laughter, scorn, and erection he still sported from the rude summoning.

Bobby bit his lips and tried to keep the grin from getting too wide. "Oh, I don't know about that." He failed and it cracked over his tanned features once more, crinkling the eyes, twisting at the lips, and making those puffy cheeks raise just a bit higher.

On anyone else, with any other expression and tone, that would sound like innuendo in a situation like this, especially with the way those eyes weren't even pretending not to look where the ducky was situated.

Crowley was going to disembowel the bastard a thousand times in Hell, and still not be through. "And what is it you think you have that I want? You're not exactly my type."

"Oh, I see that. Not the right species, right?" Bobby smirked and snapped his fingers.

Gavin.

Oh bloody Hell this was a nightmare. But Crowley put on the show, the waterworks. "Gavin? My son, my dear sweet son." His face split into a nasty grin and he eyed Bobby with a smirk, "Oh, I'm sorry. I hate the little bastard. You found the wrong bargaining chip. Hell, if you wanna torture him, I might just have to watch, or give you a hand. It'd be my pleasure. Free of charge even!”

"Oh, I don't think so. See, Gavin here hates dear old dad as much as you do. And he had a lot of information to share, didn't you, Gavin?" He glanced over with a grin.

Those dead ghostly eyes just focused on him in amusement and he couldn't think of a time he was more shamed and humiliated, but he was going to kill them. Going to just snap them open and destroy them. He’d kill Gavin from beyond the grave even. No hard thing, really. Crowley huffed. "And what, he told you my life story and that's supposed to be blackmail?"

"Oh, better than that. See," he pulled out the phone and handed it to Crowley, "I've got the boys here, standing in a tiny little cemetary in Scotland. Just got a nice workout, digging up a certain Fergus MacLeod's bones. You wouldn't happen to know a two-bit tailor by that name, would you?"

"That's-- that's just a rumor. A myth. It doesn't work!"

Dean flicked the lighter. "Well, you wanna bet your life on it? Or is it death?"

Crowley snarled, "You wouldn't--"

"I did it to that pretty little Crossroads demon I summoned earlier this week. You should have heard the way she screamed, Crowley." Bobby crouched down beside him. "Honestly, if you have to keep my soul, as long as I get to see you die, naked and covered in bubbles too? Well, I'm happy enough. Or you could take the deal."

Bastards. Right bastards the whole damn lot of them. "Fine. Give me my bones and never tell a soul about this, and it's a deal." He snapped his fingers and the contract began to fade.

"Uh uh, you can leave in the part about the legs."

Crowley acquiesced and left it in.

When Bobby released him from the trap, he snapped back to Hell, dressed in a flash, and arrived at his plot to take the damned bones back from the tricky bastards.

Dean grinned at him and flicked the lighter, "I don't know, Sammy, maybe we should throw a rubber ducky in too?"

Sam snorted with laughter, even when Crowley shoved past him to get to his bones.

"Get bent, Moose."


End file.
